Conversion

Related poetry:

1. If Hands Could Free You, Heart If hands could free you, heart, Where would you fly? Far, beyond every part Of earth this running sky Makes desolate? Would you cross City and hill and sea, If hands could set you free? I would not lift the latch; For I could run Through fields, pit-valleys, catch All beauty under the sun Still […]...
2. A Rusty Nail I ran a nail into my hand, The wound was hard to heal; So bitter was the pain to stand I thought how it would feel, To have spikes thrust through hands and feet, Impaled by hammer beat. Then hoisted on a cross of oak Against the sullen sky, With all about the jeering follk […]...
3. The End of the World Here, at the end of the world, The flowers bleed As if they were hearts, The hearts ooze a darkness Like india ink, & poets dip their pens in & they write. “Here, at the end of the world,” They write, Not knowing what it means. “Here, where the sky nurses on black milk, Where […]...
4. Father Gerard Hopkins, S. J Why didst thou carve thy speech laboriously, And match and blend thy words with curious art? For Song, one saith, is but a human heart Speaking aloud, undisciplined and free. Nay, God be praised, Who fixed thy task for thee! Austere, ecstatic craftsman, set apart From all who traffic in Apollo’s mart, On thy phrased […]...
5. After Auschwitz Anger, As black as a hook, Overtakes me. Each day, Each Nazi Took, at 8:00 A. M., a baby And sauteed him for breakfast In his frying pan. And death looks on with a casual eye And picks at the dirt under his fingernail. Man is evil, I say aloud. Man is a flower That […]...
6. A learned man came to me once A learned man came to me once. He said, “I know the way, come.” And I was overjoyed at this. Together we hastened. Soon, too soon, were we Where my eyes were useless, And I knew not the ways of my feet. I clung to the hand of my friend; But at last he cried, […]...
7. Conversion African Guardian of Souls, Drunk with rum, Feasting on strange cassava, Yielding to new words and a weak palabra Of a white-faced sardonic god Grins, cries Amen, Shouts hosanna....
8. Authorship You say that father write a lot of books, but what he write I don’t Understand. He was reading to you all the evening, but could you really Make out what he meant? What nice stores, mother, you can tell us! Why can’t father Write like that, I wonder? Did he never hear from his […]...
9. The Robe of Christ (For Cecil Chesterton) At the foot of the Cross on Calvary Three soldiers sat and diced, And one of them was the Devil And he won the Robe of Christ. When the Devil comes in his proper form To the chamber where I dwell, I know him and make the Sign of the Cross Which […]...
10. Does It Pay? If one poor burdened toiler o’er life’s road, Who meets us by the way, Goes on less conscious of his galling load, Then life, indeed, does pay. If we can show the troubled heart the gain That lies always in loss, Why, then, we too are paid for all the pain Of bearing life’s hard […]...
11. Hymn 109 The value of Christ, and his righteousness. Phil. 3:7-9. No more, my God, I boast no more Of all the duties I have done; I quit the hopes I held before, To trust the merits of thy Son. Now, for the love I bear his name, What was my gain I count my loss; My […]...
12. The Unappeasable Host The Danaan children laugh, in cradles of wrought gold, And clap their hands together, and half close their eyes, For they will ride the North when the ger-eagle flies, With heavy whitening wings, and a heart fallen cold: I kiss my wailing child and press it to my breast, And hear the narrow graves calling […]...
13. Sonnet XV Above the ruin of God’s holy place, Where man-forsaken lay the bleeding rood, Whose hands, when men had craved substantial food, Gave not, nor folded when they cried, Embrace, I saw exalted in the latter days Her whom west winds with natal foam bedewed, Wafted toward Cyprus, lily-breasted, nude, Standing with arms out-stretched and flower-like […]...
14. The Prisoner I lash and writhe against my prison bars, And watch with sullen eyes the gaping crowd. . Give me my freedom and the burning stars, The hollow sky, and crags of moonlit cloud! Once I might range across the trackless plain, And roar with joy, until the desert air And wide horizons echoed it amain: […]...
15. Psalm 25 part 3 v.15-22 S. M. Distress of soul; or, Backsliding and desertion. Mine eyes and my desire Are ever to the Lord; I love to plead his promises, And rest upon his word. Turn, turn thee to my soul, Bring thy salvation near; When will thy hand release my feet Out of the deadly snare? When shall […]...
16. Warsaw I was in Warsaw when the first bomb fell; I was in Warsaw when the Terror came – Havoc and horror, famine, fear and flame, Blasting from loveliness a living hell. Barring the station towered a sentinel; Trainward I battled, blind escape my aim. ENGLAND! I cried. He kindled at the name: With lion-leap he […]...
17. A Woman's Love So vast the tide of Love within me surging, It overflows like some stupendous sea, The confines of the Present and To-be; And ‘gainst the Past’s high wall I feel it urging, As it would cry “Thou too shalt yield to me!” All other loves my supreme love embodies; I would be she on whose […]...
18. Oh! Weep for Those I. Oh! Weep for those that wept by Babel’s stream, Whose shrines are desolate, whose land a dream, Weep for the harp of Judah’s broken shell Mourn where their God that dwelt the Godless dwell! II. And where shall Israel lave her bleeding feet? And when shall Zion’s songs agains seem sweet? And Judah’s melody […]...
19. Trickle, Drops TRICKLE, drops! my blue veins leaving! O drops of me! trickle, slow drops, Candid, from me falling-drip, bleeding drops, From wounds made to free you whence you were prison’d, From my face-from my forehead and lips, From my breast-from within where I was conceal’d-press forth, red drops-confession drops; Stain every page-stain every song I sing, […]...
20. Other Lives And Dimensions And Finally A Love Poem My left hand will live longer than my right. The rivers of my palms tell me so. Never argue with rivers. Never expect your lives to finish at the same time. I think Praying, I think clapping is how hands mourn. I think staying up and waiting For paintings to sigh is science. In another […]...
21. Anthony Considine OUT in the wastes of the West countrie, Out where the white stars shine, Grim and silent as such men be, Rideth a man with a history – Anthony Considine. For the ways of men they are manifold As their differing views in life; Some sell themselves for the lust of gold, And some for […]...
22. Completion When I shall meet God’s generous dispensers Of all the riches in the heavenly store, Those lesser gods, who act as Recompensers For loneliness and loss upon this shore, Methinks abashed, and somewhat hesitating, My soul its wish and longing will declare, Lest they reply: ‘Here are no bounties waiting: We gave on earth, your […]...
23. A Baby's Death A little soul scarce fledged for earth Takes wing with heaven again for goal Even while we hailed as fresh from birth A little soul. Our thoughts ring sad as bells that toll, Not knowing beyond this blind world’s girth What things are writ in heaven’s full scroll. Our fruitfulness is there but dearth, And […]...
24. THE DAYS GO BY for Daniel Weissbort Some poems meant only for my eyes About a grief I can’t let go But I want to, want to throw It away like an old worn-out cloak Or screw up like a ball of over-written Trash and toss into the corner bin. I said it must come up or out I […]...
25. Progress The Master stood upon the mount, and taught. He saw a fire in his disciples’ eyes; ВЂ˜The old law’, they said, ‘is wholly come to naught! Behold the new world rise! ’ ВЂ˜Was it’, the Lord then said, ‘with scorn ye saw The old law observed by Scribes and Pharisees? I say unto you, see […]...
26. Flag of the Southern Cross Sons of Australia, be loyal and true to her – Fling out the flag of the Southern Cross! Sing a loud song to be joyous and new to her – Fling out the flag of the Southern Cross! Stain’d with the blood of the diggers who died by it, Fling out the flag to the […]...
27. Queen Elizabeth Speaks My hands were stained with blood, my heart was Proud and cold, My soul is black with shame. . . but I gave Shakespeare gold. So after aeons of flame, I may, by grace of God, Rise up to kiss the dust that Shakespeare’s feet have trod....
28. Love Lies Bleeding Love lies bleeding in the bed whereover Roses lean with smiling mouths or pleading: Earth lies laughing where the sun’s dart clove her: Love lies bleeding. Stately shine his purple plumes, exceeding Pride of princes: nor shall maid or lover Find on earth a fairer sign worth heeding. Yet may love, sore wounded scarce recover […]...
29. Sandpipers Sandland where the salt water kills the sweet potatoes. Homes for sandpipers-the script of their feet is on the sea shingles-they write in the morning, it is gone at noon-they write at noon, it is gone at night. Pity the land, the sea, the ten mile flats, pity anything but the sandpiper’s wire legs and […]...
30. The Knights Of St. John Oh, nobly shone the fearful cross upon your mail afar, When Rhodes and Acre hailed your might, O lions of the war! When leading many a pilgrim horde, through wastes of Syrian gloom; Or standing with the cherub’s sword before the holy tomb. Yet on your forms the apron seemed a nobler armor far, When […]...
31. The Night is Darkening Around Me The night is darkening round me, The wild winds coldly blow ; But a tyrant spell has bound me, And I cannot, cannot go. The giant trees are bending Their bare boughs weighed with snow ; The storm is fast descending, And yet I cannot go. Clouds beyond clouds above me, Wastes beyond wastes below […]...
32. Non Sum Qualis Eram Bonae Sub Regno Cynarae Last night, ah, yesternight, betwixt her lips and mine There fell thy shadow, Cynara! thy breath was shed Upon my soul between the kisses and the wine; And I was desolate and sick of an old passion, Yea, I was desolate and bowed my head: I have been faithful to thee, Cynara! in my fashion. […]...
33. To A Sad Daughter All night long the hockey pictures Gaze down at you Sleeping in your tracksuit. Belligerent goalies are your ideal. Threats of being traded Cuts and wounds all this pleases you. O my god! you say at breakfast Reading the sports page over the Alpen As another player breaks his ankle Or assaults the coach. When […]...
34. Sonnet 42: That thou hast her, it is not all my grief That thou hast her, it is not all my grief, And yet it may be said I loved her dearly; That she hath thee is of my wailing chief, A loss in love that touches me more nearly. Loving offenders, thus I will excuse ye: Thou dost love her because thou know’st I love her, […]...
35. Sonnet XLII That thou hast her, it is not all my grief, And yet it may be said I loved her dearly; That she hath thee, is of my wailing chief, A loss in love that touches me more nearly. Loving offenders, thus I will excuse ye: Thou dost love her, because thou knowst I love her; […]...
36. Lost You left me with the autumn time; When the winter stripped the forest bare, Then dressed it in his spotless rime; When frosts were lurking in the air You left me here and went away. The winds were cold; you could not stay. You sought a warmer clime, until The south wind, artful maid, should […]...
37. Iceland First Seen Lo from our loitering ship a new land at last to be seen; Toothed rocks down the side of the firth on the east guard a weary wide lea, And black slope the hillsides above, striped adown with their desolate green: And a peak rises up on the west from the meeting of cloud and […]...
38. After the Engagement Well, Mabel, ’tis over and ended – The ball I wrote was to be; And oh! it was perfectly splendid – If you could have been here to see. I’ve a thousand things to write you That I know you are wanting to hear, And one, that is sure to delight you – I am […]...
39. Welcome Cross ‘Tis my happiness below Not to live without the cross, But the Saviour’s power to know, Sanctifying every loss; Trials must and will befall; But with humble faith to see Love inscribed upon them all, This is happiness to me. God in Israel sows the seeds Of affliction, pain, and toil; These spring up and […]...
40. Jesus Hasting to Suffer The Saviour, what a noble flame Was kindled in his breast, When hasting to Jerusalem, He march’d before the rest. Good will to men, and zeal for God, His every thought engross; He longs to be baptized with blood, He pants to reach the cross! With all His suffering full in view, And woes to […]...